Jericon Warfare

By hookedupondrama All Rights Reserved ©

Action / Romance

Blurb

In a wretched world, the war rages on. The septs are communities mastering the art of ancient Jericon Warfare. Jericon Warfare: an art of materialising ones own/ ones Siphon's life energy into weapons. Ziara Pioron is the offspring of the Sept's Prodigy, raised as a weapon of war. Proud, Cruel and Sly but constantly burdened to shoulder her responsibility as the Sept's saviour. Quendro Sion is an abomination to the Sept, being the leader's youngest son with no talent in their prided warfare. Dead set to prove the Sept and his father wrong. In an unfortunate turn of events Ziara discovers that she is Quendro's siphon. Disgusted and shamed she revolts against the bond but the war forces them together. The war is on the brink, danger looming above everyone. Will they be able to see the large scale of things or would this be the end for the septs?

Prologue

10 years ago

“The art of Jericon Warfare is not for the weak hearted. You are a disgrace to your family. Even with Sion blood in your veins, you have zero capability. A 7 year old Sion can draw out a Xiphos but you cant even produce a dagger. To top that you challenged Ziara for the finals and looks like you have zero chances of graduating,” the Counselor yelled at the little child bowing in front of him. The child didn’t utter a word but neither did he step backwards. He stood his ground. The Counselor didn’t want him dead or decapitated on his watch, but had no choice.

The child who was barely 7 bowed his head, his silver locks, a typical Sion trait, acting as a curtain over his pale face. The boy stood up finally, his lanky form tensed and showing his skinny arms, marred with scars.

“If I am going to lose, at least I will have my defeat from the strongest challenger.” His voice rang loud and clear. He lacked any talent but the Sion’s love for a good fight wasn’t a trait the child lacked.

The counselor sighed heavily for he saw no way out of this. Although he wanted to protect the child, the rules forbade him from interference in a challenge.

“Ziara Pioron, step forward! Do you accept the challenge presented by Quendro Sion?” The Counselor presented the final fight to her as was customary.

A blue-eyed girl stepped forward, her long, black jacket scraping the floor. Her face was void of any emotion, a trait shared amongst all weapons of war.

“I accept,” She called out.

“Within the battleground, then.” The counselor signaled with a wave of his hand.

All their batchmates swarmed around the battleground. The opportunity of seeing the Pioron fight always attracted crowds. Added to it was the fact that no one dared to challenge her in the finals. She was to glide her way through graduation as she already had the highest grades from the mock battles.

“Go easy, Ziara.” The Counselor whispered in her ear before she stepped in the circle.

“Never!” came her instant reply. She eyed the boy in front of her menacingly.

“You made a grave mistake.” She taunted him.

“I won’t give you an easy fight. I have to keep the best entertained,” he replied with a chuckle.

She placed her hand above her heart and waved the other in the air. Streams of red aura started coiling around her hand. In a moment, she had her sword: double edged, 55 inches long, the blade 42 inches and the metallic hilt enclosing the red soul stone in a spiral encasing. The gasps could be heard from around the battlefield but her opponent didn’t waver.

She charged towards him like lightning that for the onlookers, it was almost impossible to spot her. But he was quick and moved out of her way, leaving everyone shocked. No one had ever been able to match her speed. Even she was surprised but didn’t let that get to her head.

She turned around and swirled her sword aiming for his shoulder. He dodged but she was quick to recover and swung her leg in a circle making him lose his footing. He fell back but did a somersault using his arms for support and landed a few feet away from her. Ziara was getting impatient, wanting to get this over with. She held her sword back and started running along the periphery of the field, gaining momentum until all the crowd saw was a swirling wall of air around the battlefield.

Quendro didn’t let her leave his eyes for a second. He knew where she was and also knew this attack of hers- the death wheel.
He waited for her in a defensive stance, but she knew not to get overconfident and increased her speed until now even Sion could not spot her. To be sure, she attacked him head first, aiming for his cheek and a cut appeared on his face.

The blood trickling from the cut made him aware of her presence and he tried decoding her movements.

Ziara held her sword in an attacking stance and charged towards him, her attack aimed to kill.

A loud metal clang echoed through the battlefield. The onlookers waited to see the outcome but the death wheel had created clouds of dust around the battlefield. Everyone paused for the dust to clear and what they saw when it did, left everybody stunned.

Ziara was holding on her sword, her knuckles turning white and eyes wide. Holding the attack of her weapon was another sword. It was a double edged bastard sword enclosing a red soul stone at the end of the hilt in a ribbed casing, held in Quendro’s right hand. His left hand was positioned above her heart, drawing aura.

A moment passed and Ziara’s sword started disintegrating. She coughed a mouthful of blood, her knees gave out and she stumbled forward. But before she could fall, Quendro removed his hand from her heart and wrapped it around her delicate waist. Her body leaned on his for support as she started slipping out of consciousness, due to exhaustion.

He raised his sword towards the air, a gesture signifying him as the victor of the challenge. His eyes were not able to leave the weapon, a magnificent piece of art and strength, and he was aware of the deep breaths of the girl in his embrace. His siphen.

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